


As Old Couples Do

by OverMyFreckledBody



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Arguing, Crack Treated Seriously, Established Relationship, M/M, Movie Quotation(s), POV Outsider, POV Outsider on Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Public Display of Affection, Short, Suffering Scott, he exaggerates tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 17:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15224294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverMyFreckledBody/pseuds/OverMyFreckledBody
Summary: Scott fucking hates living here with them.





	As Old Couples Do

**Author's Note:**

> i saw a comic for a different fandom with that one juno quote and it was pretty funny, so i wanted to write a quick thing for it
> 
> dude, i'm supposed to be writing something else. like 80 different something elses  
> send help?
> 
>  **EDIT** : fixed a LOT of errors. this is why you never post immediately after writing something, ESPECIALLY when you've been writing at 3 in the morning

          There’s a slam of a door that Scott has long since stopped wincing at. Stiles is just too loud for his own good, even when he isn’t angry. Which he is now – angry. They – yeah, Scott’s starting to get mad himself, it’s not just Stiles – have Derek to blame for that.

 

          Well, maybe. Scott knows Stiles; he could be just as easily be at fault here. However, Stiles is his best friend and it’s pretty much been nailed into the ground that Scott will never like Derek (no matter how long he dates his best friend), so no matter what, in Scott’s eyes, it’s always Derek’s fault. Especially when their volume is starting to give him a headache.

 

          He had his headphones on for god’s sake. He shouldn’t be getting a headache from them arguing over… whatever it is this time. They _like_ to fight and bicker, apparently, or something. The one and _only_ time he tried to complain about it to his mother, she’d grinned, something old and knowing in her eyes – that look that parents get sometimes, unreadable even as an adult – and had said, “It’s probably foreplay to them.”

 

          Which. One, gross. Two, _gross_. Three, why did she have to put that image into his head? It’s bad enough that he has to open the door with a hand over his eyes because half the time he walks in, the two of them are making out on the couch, usually missing a couple articles of clothes. At this point, he doesn’t know if they’re just so in a rush to make out, or if they, on some level, _want_ to be caught.

 

          Actually. Derek would always smirk a little too much when Scott yelped at seeing his friend in the act of getting disheveled. So, see, again, everything is Derek’s fault.

 

          Nonetheless, as often as they argue, it doesn’t ever seem to be over anything too big. The morning after one that happened somewhat recently, Scott had asked about the cause of it, which immediately had Stiles straightening up with a light in his eyes. It was different – because it was usually had with Derek, that incredibly, almost maniac focused one he saved for when he was going on and on about his bizarre interest he had just spent four hours reading about, with a splash of fond exasperation.

 

          Of course, that was also when he answered with, “He actually likes _pancakes_ more than waffles,” with his nose turned up in disgust. “Can you believe that? And he had the audacity to correct me on _pat_ of butter, instead of pad. Did you know it was actually _pat_ , Scott? I looked it up and I was _wrong_ , and he got to be all smug, right there in front of me! And then he didn’t even use the butter, just doused his stack in syrup–!”

 

          After that, Scott tuned it out. Which was what he tried to do with most of their arguments, anyway. But some days, days like this one, where all he wanted to do was play some xbox, he didn’t get the chance. Not when he wanted to use his mic and had to listen for other player’s commands.

 

          Which means that he has to hear Stiles shouting over his shoulder as he stalks around the couch, “I still have your underwear! And your jacket!” Scott sighs, wishing yet again he had a push to talk headset as he reached for his mute button. He is, of course, attacked before he could find it, and has to bring his hand up to the controller again, right as Stiles tacks on, “Don’t ever plan on getting those back, either!”

 

          Christ.

 

          Even Scott knew about that, though. The one time that Stiles and Derek actually, really fought, it was… different. They spent most of their time both ignoring each other and seeking the other one out to exist in their presence and dumbly grasp for a way to make it up. Scott had happened upon Stiles packing Derek’s things around their apartment, or… more or less attempting to. At one point, he had slumped onto his bed, just staring at Derek’s jacket in his hands for several long minutes before he tucked it under his pillow and went back to grabbing shit around the room.

 

          The box never got delivered to Derek, and everything got tossed back to its place. Derek came back around again, and the two of them continued to alternate between sniping at each other and borderline fucking in any room they spent two seconds in.

 

          Sometimes Scott misses the days where all they did was just stare at each other all the time. He thought _that_ was bad, but at least then he didn’t have to deal with the crises of how if he notices that Stiles chooses a seat instead of Derek’s lap, then _Scott_ knows that there’s something up with their relationship.

 

          He misses it especially now, when Derek stomps after Stiles, yelling back, “Well, I still have your virginity!”

 

          Scott cringes at that image, and desperately wishes that the person shooting at him would just _die already_ so he could fumble around for his mute button. Even more, he wishes that they weren’t having this conversation at all. If it goes on any longer, he might as well just shut everything off and go get a cupcake or something.

 

          “Big whoop,” he hears from Stiles. “Like anybody else wanted it, anyway!”

 

          “Dude,” someone over the voice channel deadpans a couple seconds later. Well, at least Scott doesn’t have to wonder if anyone heard that, because now he knows that they definitely did.

 

          He drops his controller into his lap, completely giving up, and presses the heels of his hands into his eyelids. It does little to help with his headache. With a groan, he mutters, “You don’t even know the half of it.”

 

          He _really_ needs his own place.

**Author's Note:**

> epilogue: derek catches up to stiles and starts to tell him in a hushed, growly whisper how everyone from stiles’ highschool is stupid, how he’s so lucky to have stiles, how he still cannot believe that he was stiles’ first
> 
> they end up fucking against the kitchen wall after scott leaves


End file.
